The following is narrative fifteen, within a series of twenty-three narratives, to mark the third anniversary of "Operation Cast Lead." A new post will be released each day, marking the incident that happened on the same date three years ago. The narratives are developed by the Palestinian Center for Human Rights.

“When I left my children I was walking and my children had not seen my wounds. The most difficult moment was when I came back with only 1 leg and many injuries. I was a different Wafa. When I came back I was supposed to happy and the people were supposed to be happy for seeing me but everyone was crying.”

On 10 January 2009, at around 16:30, Wafa al-Radea (thirty-nine) and her sister Ghada (thirty-two) were targeted by two Israeli drone missiles while walking on Haboub street, one of the main roads in Beit Lahiya. The sisters were walking during the Israeli announced hour long ceasefire, and were on their way to a clinic nearby because Wafa felt that she was close to delivering a baby. Both women were severely injured in the attack.

“When people came to help I could hear them speak but was unable to respond. They were saying that I was dead,” remembers Wafa. While Ghada was taken to hospital with severe injuries to her legs, people had covered Wafa as they thought she was dead. Eventually an ambulance brought her to a hospital where doctors carried out a caesarean section surgery in an attempt to save her baby. It was only during the surgery the doctors realized Wafa was still alive. While her son, Iyad, was born, doctors amputated Wafa’s right leg and attempted to treat her other injuries. On 12 January both sisters were transferred to a hospital in Egypt for additional medical treatment. Wafa underwent a series of operations until the end of April and then had three months of rehabilitation. Wafa and Ghada returned to Gaza on 29 and 27 June 2009.

Wafa vividly remembers the months she spent in Egypt. “My clearest memory of that time is the unbearable pain caused by the changing of the bandages. It took nurses 5 to 6 hours each time. I underwent many surgeries. After an operation to transplant skin from my left thigh to a lower part of my leg, nurses removed the transplanted cells by mistake when cleaning the wound. I had to undergo the same surgery again, this time taking skin from my arms. I was screaming because of the pain.

My brother Walid (25) lost consciousness and was bleeding from his nose. He couldn’t bear what was happening to me. I was very angry at everyone after the operation.” Wafa’s brother Walid was with her throughout the whole period in Egypt. She didn’t see my other relatives from Gaza. “It was very difficult for them to visit me because travelling to Egypt is costly and they had to look after the children,” she says.

Wafa is the mother of eight children: Ehab (twenty), Lina (nineteen), Hani (seventeen), Shourouq (fifteen), Mo’taz (thirteen), Saher (twelve), Jehad (nine), and Iyad (three). During her time in Egypt Wafa had limited contact with her children. She says: “in the first 3 months I couldn’t speak to my children over the phone. I refused. I was unable to talk. They were waiting for me for 6 months. The children were curious to know what happened to me.”

“When I left my children I was walking and my children had not seen my wounds. The most difficult moment was when I came back with only 1 leg and many injuries. I was a different Wafa. When I came back I was supposed to happy and the people were supposed to be happy for seeing me but everyone was crying,” Wafa recalls. “I noticed that my children watched my every move. Jehad kept following me with his eyes, watching how I went to the living room, how I sat down. He refused to go out and play with other children. He just wanted to stay with me in the home. I was very affected by the situation of my children. They are always ready to help me whenever I try to move or do anything.”

Wafa’s eldest daughters, Lina (nineteen) and Shourouq (sixteen) had taken care of Iyad while their mother was in hospital in Egypt. “One of them would go to school in the morning and leave Iyad with her sister. In the afternoon it was the other way around.” She continues: “when I came home they brought Iyad and put him on my lap. He was blond and beautiful and I thought he was a nephew. I couldn’t imagine that he was my son. I asked them about Iyad and they told me that he was on my lap.” Wafa takes a lot of strength from having her children around her. She says “I am very grateful and happy for having my children. They help me with everything and keep my morale high. Even when I am sad, I would smile if my children came to me. I want them to feel that I am happy because I am with them.”

Wafa finds it difficult to accept help from her children: “I always used to be the one who would help them. Before, I used to go to the school to check on the children and walk to the market to do the shopping. Now if want to go out I must use a car. And if I want to move in the house I must use a wheelchair. I also use the walkers and if Iyad wants to take my hand I cannot give him my hand because I am afraid that I will fall. I need my hands to hold the walkers.”

Wafa received one year of physiotherapy in Gaza for her back, pelvis and her left leg. Despite several attempts, so far she has no prosthetic leg. She also still undergoes treatment for her left leg. “My leg is getting better but I am still in hospital from time to time, for example when I have inflammations. One month ago I was in hospital for 6 days. In winter my wounds hurt more and I feel pain in my pelvis, back, abdomen and legs.”

Despite constantly being confronted with the past Wafa tries to focus on the future. “I hope that our children will not have to pass through similar experiences when they are older. I wish that their lives will be better. But my children keep asking me ‘will there be another war, come again and kill us all?’ They are afraid and I see how the war negatively impacted on them,” she says.

Wafa feels great frustration over how the crime against her and her sister caused so much suffering and yet goes unpunished. “It has been 3 years since they [Israel] attacked us and there is still no response. I spoke to many people from human rights organizations about my story and what is the result of it? There is no result or action whatsoever.”

10 jan 2012 PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of Wafa al-Radea on 07 October 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

"The Israeli military say they are the most moral army in the world, but they killed my daughter, they didn’t respect her right to live.”

On 9 January 2009, the Abu Oda household in the Al Amal neighbourhood of Beit Hanoun came under sustained fire from Israeli positions close to the Gaza-Israeli border two kilometres away.

Nariman Abu Oda, 16, was hit in the right side of her body by Israeli fire as she was walking from the hallway, where the family were taking cover, to the kitchen. Medics were unable to reach the family and Nariman died before she could receive medical attention.

The pockmarked concrete walls of the Abu Oda household tell a good deal of the story of Nariman’s death. Despite the best efforts of father Ahmed Abdel Kareem Muhammad, fifty-seven, and mother, I’tidal Abd al Aziz, fifty-three, to plaster over the patch work of holes and indentations in the walls, ceiling, floors and doors, the house remains riddled with bullet holes. As I’tidal explains “it is clear the shooting was completely indiscriminate.”

Nariman’s mother and father keep returning to the question, why did this happen? For them, it is not an empty rhetorical question, but one that holds a great deal of weight and a great deal of their concern. “Why my daughter? What were their motives? What were their reasons?” asks Ahmed. “The Israeli military say they are the most moral army in the world, but they killed my daughter, they didn’t respect her right to live.”

The Abu Oda family find themselves caught in a deep state of mourning regarding Nariman’s absence, yet at the same time feel her constant presence. Recalling that Nariman used to make him his coffee in the morning, Ahmed says that, he still absentmindedly calls for Nariman when he wants coffee or tea.

“Her room is still exactly as she left it three years ago, with everything still in its place.” Despite this, the family are desperately seeking to move; “we do not want to live in the house that Nariman was killed in,” says Ahmed.

Adding to the sense of presence Nariman has in the house, I’tidal and Ahmed’s children Shadi, thirty-four, Abdel Kareem, thirty-two, and Sahar, thirty, have all since had daughters whom they named Nariman, in the memory of their younger sister.

I’tidal was deeply affected physically and mentally by the loss of her daughter who used to help her a lot with daily household chores. “When I see young girls going to school I imagine her with them, I see her in every room of the house, I will never forget her.

After the incident I was admitted to the hospital for ten days due to shock” recalls I’tidal, “since then I have suffered from huge physical problems resulting from stress.” I’tidal has health complications relating to blood pressure, heart disease and diabetes.

The family did not only lose Nariman during the Israeli offensive, but also their livelihood. The family had a citrus grove and a poultry farm that were totally destroyed during the attack and have another farm that they cannot reach due to its proximity to the Israeli imposed buffer zone.

The family have recently planted seedlings in one of the destroyed farms again but are still waiting to harvest them. However, the loss of income from the farms is mentioned merely as an afterthought to the loss of Nariman. “We care nothing for the loss of our land compared to the loss of our daughter” says Ahmed.

Speaking of the future the couple are desperately seeking answers and demand accountability. “I don’t expect the case to be successful, they will change the facts, the only thing I want is to address the soldier who killed my daughter” says Ahmed. “But I hope one day that we can reach peace with the Israeli’s and end the war and the killing.”

The family of a 16-year-old girl killed in Israel's Operation Cast Lead remain plagued by questions three years after her death, as a criminal complaint to Israeli authorities goes unanswered.

"Why my daughter? What were their motives? What were their reasons?" asks Ahmed Abu Oda.

"The Israeli military say they are the most moral army in the world, but they killed my daughter, they didn’t respect her right to live."

Nariman Abu Oda was killed on Jan. 9, 2009 (then scroll down) by Israeli fire on her home in Beit Hanoun, and the house remains riddled with bullet holes, the Palestinian Center for Human Rights, which submitted the complaint in August that year, reports.

"It is clear the shooting was completely indiscriminate," her mother Itidal explains.

Her husband says he knows the legal compliant will not change the fact of his daughter's death, but "the only thing I want is to address the soldier who killed my daughter."

"But I hope one day that we can reach peace with the Israelis and end the war and the killing," he says.

The family, whose citrus grove and poultry farm was also destroyed in the three-week offensive, are struggling to move from their home. "We do not want to live in the house that Nariman was killed in," Ahmed says.

All three of their children have since had daughters who they named Nariman, in memory of their sister.

Saeed and Nisreen al-Rahel with their children Dina, Sunia, Ansam, Anas and Ali.

“The other children keep talking about Dima and the memories of both incidents. ‘We wish to die like Dima’ is what the children sometimes say to me because of all the stress and our poor living conditions.”

On 8 January 2009, at approximately 11:00, four missiles were fired at the house of Juma’a al-Rahel (45) in Beit Lahiya, injuring 3 members of the extended al-Rahel family: Basma (3), Dima (5), and Faten (41). Many of the extended family were inside the house at the time of the attack, as six of the al-Rahel brothers and their wives and children live nearby. Immediately after the attack, the families fled the area and sought refuge in Beit Lahiya’s UNRWA school. On 17 January 2009 the school was targeted with white phosphorus bombs, leaving Dima’s sister, Ansam al-Rahel (13), severely injured. After six weeks of fighting for her life 5-year old Dima eventually died of her wounds in an Egyptian hospital on 1 March 2009.Saeed al-Rahel (35), the father of Dima and Ansam, remembers the day of the first attack vividly. “I was at home when an explosion took place and all the windows were broken. I got out of the house. I heard people screaming in the house of my brother Juma’a, nextdoor. My daughter Dima was there and I heard people screaming that she was wounded. Several more missiles struck Juma’a’s house and we fled from the area. Dima was taken to hospital. On 13 January she was transferred to Egypt. I went with her.”Saeed’s wife, Nisreen al-Rahel (33), and their other children, Sunia (17), Dina (15), Ansam (13), Ahmad (11), Mohammed (6), and Ali (4), stayed in the UNRWA school in Beit Lahiya after the attack. Nisreen recalls: “we stayed in the school building from 8 to 17 January. It was winter and very cold. We didn’t have any mattresses. We had to use blankets as mattresses and it was very difficult, especially for the children. We didn’t have enough food. We also had to ask other people to give us water. There was no clean water.”On 17 January 2009 the Israeli army bombed the school building with white phosphorus shells. “Experiencing the attack on the school was more difficult for me than the attack on the house. At the moment that the bombing of the school started I was in a classroom with my children. The bombing started around 5:00am and it was dark. I heard Ansam cry ‘I am wounded in my head’. The firing of bombs was very intensive.” Ansam was severely injured in the head, she lost her hair in the place of the injury and the scars get infected from time to time as parts of her skull are missing. “She is still suffering because of her injuries. At school she loses consciousness when she is active,” say Nisreen.Saeed remembers the moment he found out about the bombing of the school: “Before I went to Egypt I stayed in that same classroom with my family. I saw the attack on the television when I was in Egypt and I recognized the classroom. There was blood on the floor. When I called to my family, no one wanted to tell me how my daughter Ansam was doing.”When Nisreen and her remaining children moved back to their house after the offensive they found it badly damaged and their livelihood destroyed. “Shortly before the war I bought cattle. We had 2 oxen, 17 goats and dozens of rabbits. I kept them next to our house. I took out loans to buy them,” explains Saeed. “When our family returned to our house after the war they found all the animals killed by shrapnel. Only one goat was still alive but he also died after a few days. Now I am stuck with many loans. I can barely provide for the treatment of my daughter Ansam. I was even arrested by the police because I cannot pay back my loans to people. With a complete lack of money I am also not able to repair the severe damage that was done to the windows and walls of our house.” Cardboard and blankets serve to protect the family from the nightly and winter cold.The events of January 2009 have had a profound impact on the psychological wellbeing of the Saeed, Nisreen, and their children. “It has been very difficult for me because I lost one of my daughters and another one was badly injured. I remember Dima when I see girls going to school,” says Nisreen. “The other children keep talking about Dima and the memories of both incidents. ‘We wish to die like Dima’ is what the children sometimes say to me because of all the stress and our poor living conditions.”Saeed noticed changes in his children too. “Ansam holds a lot of anxiety and stress since the war. One time I called her and she started screaming and threw a plate at me, screaming to leave her alone. I am her father and she is afraid of me.” Nisreen adds: “Ahmad’s scores were badly affected after the war. He used to be an excellent student. Now he even has problems in reading. He also suffers from bedwetting.”Fear seems to have become a part of daily life for the family. ”The children, like me, are always afraid when they hear drones or firing. When we hear it, we all sit in a single room,” says Nisreen. The fear of another attack is never far from Saeed’s thoughts either: “I am afraid that another war will come. When people talk about it I feel afraid. When I hear drones in the area, I leave the house. I get afraid that they will target us again.”PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Rahel family on 9 September 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

Three years on from an Israeli attack that left him blind, 17-year-old Mahmoud Mattar says he spends most of his days inside and has little hope for the future.

Mahmoud was injured in an Israeli airstrike on Gaza City on Jan. 7, 2009 during Israel's brutal three-week war on the Gaza Strip.

Israeli warplanes targeted a mosque in Sheikh Radwan, and Mahmoud, who was 14 at the time, ran to site of the attack. Two further strikes hit the area, killing two teenagers and injuring Mahmoud, who was thrown unconscious.

He was left totally blind by the attack, and told the Palestinian Center for Human Rights that he now spends his days inside.

"I used to go by myself to the sea. I was independent. Now I need someone to go with me everywhere I go. I go out maybe once every two or three months."

He is also self-conscious of his injuries. "I don’t want to go out due to the comments I get from children. Anytime I do I cover my face with my clothes and dark glasses."

He added: "The glasses broke yesterday."

His injuries have taken a psychological toll on the teenager, who was suspended from school after having difficulties with students and teachers.

"I have become very nervous since the attack. If someone is kidding with me I will try to hit them with anything at hand," he says.

His hopes of being a PE teacher or opening a sports club were destroyed in the strike, he says, and he has lost interest in education.

"Now my only wish is to leave my formal education and focus on my religion and learn the Koran."

Several charities have promised to provide reconstructive surgery to clear his breathing, which he struggles with due to transplanted bone matter in his nose, but the organizations have not delivered.

"It would be great if someone could take me to the desert and leave me there, that way I wouldn’t have to see people," Mahmoud says.

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to Israeli authorities on Mahmoud's behalf on Dec. 30, 2009, but has yet to receive a reply.

“The bodies of nine of those killed were not found, including the bodies of my wife and my children. I tried my best with the civil defense personnel to find their bodies. All we found were pieces of flesh that were unidentifiable.”

On 6 January 2009, at approximately 05:45, an Israeli aircraft bombed the al-Dayah family in the Zeitoun neighborhood of Gaza City. 22 people, including 12 children and a pregnant woman, were killed. Only one of the family members inside the house at the time of the attack, Amer al-Dayah (31), survived. Amer, two brothers who had not yet returned home from Morning Prayer at a nearby mosque, and two sisters who live elsewhere with their husbands and children are the only surviving members of the al-Dayah family. Mohammed al-Dayah (31) recalls the day of the attack: “after I finished praying, I stood beside the mosque, talking to our neighbor, waiting for the sound of the airplanes and bombardments in the area to decrease. Then I heard a very powerful explosion. Shrapnel landed where I was standing. I immediately rushed home. When I reached it, I only found a pile of rubble. I began screaming and calling out for members of my family, but there was no reply. They were all under the rubble. Dead.” Mohammed was not able to bury his wife Tezal (28), daughters Amani (6), Qamar (5), Arij (3) or his son Yousef (2). “The bodies of nine of those killed were not found, including the bodies of my wife and my children. I tried my best with the civil defense personnel to find their bodies. All we found were pieces of flesh that were unidentifiable,” he says. Tazal was 8 months pregnant with a boy when she was killed. “At the moment I cannot imagine ever being happy again, or celebrating a happy occasion. It reminds me of the old life I used to have with my family. Before, I used to go to many parties. I always danced dabke, together with my extended family in Zeitoun. I led the dancing. Whenever we had a chance to celebrate, we would. Now I cannot bear the sound of party music, of celebrations. It makes me too sad. Whenever there is a party in the neighborhood, I have to leave the house and go somewhere else,” says Mohammed. The holidays are the most difficult time of the year for him: “during Ramadan and the Eid holidays I suffer and think of them even more than usual.” His brother ‘Amer pushed Mohammed to remarry. “At first I didn’t want to but I was alone and I had to somehow rebuild a life,” says Mohammed. Now Mohammed is remarried and has two daughters, Amani (4 months) and Qamar (1.5 years old), both named after his daughters who died in the attack. “I didn’t make a party when I remarried. Neither did my brothers for their weddings. We simply do not feel like celebrating anything.” Mohammed works as an electrician with the Ministry of Health, but has had difficulties at his work since he lost his family. “I am not able to sleep at night. The night time is the most difficult part of the day for me as I cannot fall asleep. I have tried everything. Even medicine, but that only made me dizzy. So, at night I just stay up and keep myself busy; eating, taking a walk, sitting in the cemetery, going for a run. Only after sunrise I fall asleep for a few hours, exhausted. Then, how can I go to work in time? I can’t. My boss has given me 10 warnings so far but at the same time I know that he understands and has sympathy for my situation.” The three brothers rebuilt a house on the same place as the old building. All three of them insisted to return to the same location. “It is where we grew up,” says Mohammed. “The Ministry of Works assisted us in constructing the base and first floor of the house, but the bomb left a seven meter deep hole under the building which affected the foundation and ground water. It took us 3 months to fix the water problem, before we could even start construction of a new building.” However, Mohammed still notices that there are problems with the foundation of the building. “Every time there is a bombing, I feel the house move. It wasn’t like that before. The house is not steady. The base was destroyed by the bomb.” As Mohammed tries to rebuild a life and a future, he has no hopes that he will see those responsible for the death of his family being held accountable. “I expect nothing from Israeli Courts. They [Israel] prepare a plan and justification first and then carry out their attack. The war crimes are justified before being committed. Crimes could happen anytime again.” PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Dayah family on 18 May 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

Amal al-Samouni (11) sitting in front of her house in Zeitoun neighborhood

“I have constant pain in my head, eyes and ears. I have been having nose bleeds for the past three years. I can still feel the shrapnel move inside my brain”

On 4 January 2009 at around 6:00 Israeli forces surrounded the house where Amal al-Samouni (11) and 18 members of her extended family were sheltering, in Zeitoun neighborhood east of Gaza City. Israeli soldiers ordered the owner of the house, Amal’s father Attia al-Samouni (37), to step outside with his hands up. Upon opening the door he was immediately killed by shots to the head and chest. Soldiers then started firing bullets into the house, killing Amal’s 4-year old brother Ahmad al-Samouni and injuring at least 4 other people, of whom 2 were children. Over the following hours, soldiers ordered over 100 other members of the extended al-Samouni family into the house of Wa’el Fares Hamdi al-Samouni, Amal’s uncle. On 5 January 2009 Israeli forces directly targeted the house and its vicinity, killing 21 persons and injuring many others. Amal, who was inside, was wounded by shrapnel to the head and buried under the rubble, lying between injured, dying and deceased relatives. On 7 January ambulance personnel, who were prevented from entering the area until then, evacuated her to hospital. Between 4-7 January 2009, 27 members of the Samouni family were killed, including 11 children and 6 women, and 35 others were injured, including Amal’s twin brother Abdallah. Amal survived those 4 horrific days but is left with permanent injuries and trauma. “I remember my brother and father and how they were murdered in every moment,” says Amal as she thinks back on the attacks and the three days she spent buried under the rubble of her uncle’s house without food or water. Amal does not need a lot of words to express how she feels: “before, we used to live together as a happy family. Now I don’t feel happy anymore.” Amal did not only lose her father; the family’s home was also destroyed by the army. “For one year we lived with the parents of my mother, in Gaza’s Shaja’iya neighborhood. Then we lived in a storage room for 1.5 years. It didn’t have a floor. There was just sand. Since 6 months we are living where our old house used to be. It is not even half the size of our old home. I didn’t want to return to our neighborhood because of what happened. My family didn’t want to either but we had no choice.” Like many other members of the al-Samouni family, Amal’s household now receives some help from relatives living in their neighborhood, but is still struggling to manage financially. The living conditions of Amal and her family have somewhat improved over time, although the house still lacks equipment like a refrigerator, washing machine, and a closet for the children’s clothing. Amal’s father, Attia, was a farmer. He grew vegetable crops on a rented plot, which used to provide the family income. As the reconstruction of life and livelihoods continues in the al-Samouni neighborhood, Amal continues to struggle with her injuries. The pieces of shrapnel embedded in her brain cause her severe pains. “I have constant pain in my head, eyes and ears. I have been having nose bleeds for the past three years. I can still feel the shrapnel move inside my brain,” she says. Local doctors say it would be too dangerous to remove the pieces, but Amal cannot accept this quite yet. She has a strong wish to travel abroad to see a doctor. “I want to be sure about my situation and have another doctor look at my situation. I want to try everything possible to end my problem and pain. Other children are sometimes able to travel for fun. My wish is serious; I won’t travel for amusement but for medical treatment.” The continuous pain has a profound impact on Amal’s mood, her relationship with her siblings, and her performance in school. “When I have a lot of pain I become nervous and angry.” Her mother Zeinat (38) adds that “she then easily becomes angry with her younger siblings and beats them. Recently she and I visited a hospital again to see how she could be helped. The doctor prescribed tramal [a sedative] but I will not allow her to take medicine like that.” “When I am sad I go to my aunt’s house to see my cousins, or I prepare my books for school,” says Amal. “Before the war I was excellent in school. Now my scores are not so good anymore.” While speaking of her dropped scores Amal becomes very emotional. The teacher told her mother that Amal is not able to focus in class. This semester Amal failed two subjects. “I have pain in my eyes when I look at the blackboard,” Amal says, very upset. Despite her difficulties in school, Amal knows what she would like to study for: “when I am older I want to become a pediatrician and help to treat wounded people.” PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Samouni family on 8 May 2009. To-date, only an interlocutory response has been received, noting receipt of the complaint. Despite repeated requests, no further information has been received.

“I was told initially that Arafa had been injured in an Israeli strike. Of course I was concerned, but many people get injured in his line of work and what was important is that he was still alive. I learnt only fifteen minutes before Arafa’s body arrived back at the family home that he had died. The shock was unbearable”

Arafa Abdel Dayem, 34, was killed on 4 January 2009, during Israel’s 23 day offensive on the Gaza Strip, codenamed “Operation Cast Lead”. Arafa, a medic, was responding to a missile attack on a group of five unarmed men when an Israeli tank fired a shell filled with flechettes directly at the group.

Meeting the al Dayem family one can’t help but notice the quiet and composed nature of the whole group. It is obvious that the four boys: Hani, 11, Hamed, 9, Abdel Rahman, 6, and Ahmed, 4, have been impeccably taught by their mother, Imtihan al Dayem, 35, in the ways of politeness and good behaviour. The boys remain quiet and seated next to Imtihan at all times during the interview.

Imtihan recalls the events of that day, three years ago: “I was told initially that Arafa had been injured in an Israeli strike. Of course I was concerned, but many people get injured in his line of work and what was important is that he was still alive. I learnt only fifteen minutes before Arafa’s body arrived back at the family home that he had died. The shock was unbearable”. Imtihan’s voice breaks a little as she retells the moment she learnt of her husband’s death, but it is only a glancing moment of vulnerability in what is otherwise a strong face put on “for the sake of the children and their future.”

The family have faced challenges since the loss of Arafa. Due to a dispute with Arafa’s family, with whom they lived prior to the incident, Imtihan was forced to move out and into the unfinished house started by Arafa before he died. “When we moved in there was nothing, no furniture, no windows, no carpets, we only had the house painted ten days ago,” says Imtihan. Using Arafa’s savings she was able to pay off previous loans used to start construction on the house but did not have enough to finish it.

Reflecting on Arafa’s life before he was killed Imtihan talks of Arafa’s courage and popularity amongst Palestinians. “During the war, Arafa would only come home to deliver food to the family and then go out to volunteer with the medics again. If one medical crew was full he would look for others” says Imtihan. “We received condolences from all over the world when he died.” Unsurprisingly, “the importance of being strong” is something that Imtihan reiterates in her discussion of the family’s lives since the death of her husband.

The effect on the children on the loss of their father was particularly traumatic, especially Hani who, given his and his Dad’s close relationship, displayed physical and mental symptoms of extreme trauma in the year following the event. “But I have been upfront with the children that they will behave as their father would wish them to,” says Imtihan, and daily talking sessions with UNRWA staff in the period following the death of his father has meant Hani is now doing well in school and excelling in science, a field his father taught in the local UNRWA school. It is clear that Hani is filling the position of man of the house as he sits quietly with his mother and watches over his younger brothers. Ahmed, the youngest, was four months when Arafa died, “he did not have a chance to know or to love his father” says Imtihan.

Speaking of the future Imtihan is hopeful, “I have four young boys whom I hope to see graduate from college and get married, but I am only one, it is a huge responsibility and I must be strong.” She is also hopeful for prospects regarding legal proceedings in Israel concerning compensation for her husband’s killing given that Arafa was clearly not a military target at the time of his killing at the hands of Israeli occupation forces.

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint on behalf of the Abdel Dayem Family on 21 August 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

PHOTO: Israel's use of white phosphorus munitions in densely populated urban areas of Gaza during Operation Cast Lead was internationally criticized. (Reuters) On December 27, 2008, Israel launched Operation Cast Lead, a massive, 22-day military assault on the Gaza Strip. The ferocity of the attack was unprecedented in the more than six-decade-old conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, killing some 1,400 Palestinians, most of them civilians.

According to investigations by independent Israeli and Palestinian human rights organizations, between 1,385 and 1,419 Palestinians were killed during Cast Lead, a majority of them civilians, including at least 308 minors under the age of 18. More than 5000 more were wounded. Thirteen Israelis were also killed, including 3 civilians. (See below for a more detailed breakdown of casualties)

According to the UN, 3,540 housing units were completely destroyed, with another 2,870 sustaining severe damage.

268 private businesses were destroyed, and another 432 damaged, at an estimated cost of more than $139 million, according to an assessment by the Private Sector Coordination Council, a Palestinian economic group. A separate report found that 324 factories and workshops were damaged during the war.

According to the UN Relief Works Agency (UNRWA), which provides services to Palestinian refugees, the offensive damaged almost 20,000 meters (approx. 12 miles) of water pipes, four water reservoirs, 11 wells, and sewage networks and pumping stations. Israeli shelling also damaged 107 UNRWA installations.

Eighteen schools, including 8 kindergartens, were destroyed, and at least 262 others damaged. Numerous Palestinian government buildings, including police stations, the headquarters of the Palestinian Legislative Council, and part of Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas' compound, were also destroyed.

After an investigation of the destruction of civilian infrastructure in Gaza, Human Rights Watch accused the Israeli military of violating the international ban on "wanton destruction" found in the Fourth Geneva Convention.

BACKGROUND

Six months before Cast Lead, Israel negotiated a ceasefire with Hamas and other Palestinian armed groups in Gaza. Under the agreement, which went into effect on June 19, 2008, both sides agreed to stop hostilities across the Green Line, the de facto border between Israel and the Gaza Strip.

Despite a number of violations by both sides, the truce was largely successful.

Hamas negotiators claim that Israel agreed to end its closure of Gaza's border crossings as part of the ceasefire agreement, however Israeli officials dispute this. While Israel did resume operations at one border crossing, the overall policy of closure did not change. Two months after the truce began, the UN reported that the number of goods allowed into Gaza actually decreased.

Nevertheless, overall, a situation of relative quiet prevailed in and around Gaza until November 4, when Israeli soldiers staged a raid into the Strip, killing six members of Hamas. The attack, which took place on the eve of the US presidential elections, ended the ceasefire and led to an escalation of hostilities culminating in Cast Lead the following month.

THE ASSAULT

Cast Lead proceeded in two phases: a week of intense aerial bombing followed by two weeks of a joint air and land assault and invasion. The surprise attack began at 11:30 a.m. on December 27, 2008, with Israeli F-16 fighter jets, Apache helicopters, and unmanned drones striking more than 100 locations across the tiny, crowded Gaza Strip within a matter of minutes.

Among the targets were four Palestinian police stations, including the central police headquarters in Gaza City, where a graduation ceremony for new officers was underway. Ninety-nine police personnel and 9 members of the public were killed in the first minutes of the attack. By the end of the first day at least 230 Palestinians had been killed.

The massive bombardment continued until January 3, 2009, when the Israeli army invaded the Strip from the north and east. Israel's navy also shelled Gaza from offshore.

On January 18, 2009, under enormous international pressure and just two days before Barack Obama was sworn in as President of the United States, Israel declared a unilateral ceasefire and withdrew its forces from Gaza. Palestinian armed groups followed with a separate unilateral ceasefire.CASUALTIES

Reports of the exact number of Palestinians killed vary, but casualty figures supplied by credible independent nongovernmental organizations are generally consistent.

The Gaza-based Palestinian Centre for Human Rights reported that the offensive left 1,419 Palestinians dead, including 1,167 civilians. The Centre also reported more than 5,000 Palestinians wounded, as did the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs.

The Israeli human rights group B'Tselem reported 1,385 Palestinians killed, including 762 noncombatants, and 318 minors under the age of 18.

Officially, local authorities in Gaza put the total Palestinian fatalities at 1,444. For its part, the Israeli government claimed that 1,166 Palestinians were killed, including 709 combatants.

According to Israeli authorities, three Israeli civilians and one soldier were killed by rockets fired from Gaza during Cast Lead. Nine Israeli soldiers also died in combat in Gaza, including four killed by friendly fire. According to the UN, 518 Israelis were wounded.EVIDENCE OF WAR CRIMES

In April 2009, following international outrage at the carnage caused by Cast Lead, the UN Human Rights Council established a Fact Finding Mission to investigate possible violations of international law committed during the conflict. Leading the mission was Justice Richard Goldstone, a former judge of the Constitutional Court of South Africa and war crimes prosecutor for Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia.

The four members of the mission visited Gaza in late May and early June 2009, holding hearings there and in Geneva. They conducted 188 interviews and reviewed more than 10,000 pages of documents, more than 30 videos, and 1,200 photographs.

Israel refused to cooperate with the inquiry, denying the mission the opportunity to meet with Israeli officials or visit the West Bank.

As a result of its investigation, the mission issued the so-called "Goldstone Report," a 575-page document detailing alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity committed by the Israeli military. The report also accused Palestinian armed groups of war crimes as a result of indiscriminate rockets attacks on Israeli civilians living near Gaza.

The Goldstone Report documented 36 specific cases and incidents where Israeli forces allegedly violated international laws during the Gaza offensive. These include:

Samouni family massacre: In perhaps the most infamous incident of the war, Israeli soldiers ordered around 100 members of the Samouni family into a single building in the Zaytoun area of Gaza City. Soldiers held the family in the building for 24 hours before shelling the building on January 4, 2009. Twenty-one members of the family, all civilians, were killed.

Al-Daya family massacre: On January 6, an Israeli F-16 jet fired a missile at the home of the Al-Daya family, also in the Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City, killing 22 family members, most of them women and children.

White flag killings: The UN mission and human rights groups also documented several cases in which witnesses saw Israeli soldiers kill Palestinians who were fleeing while carrying makeshift white flags to indicate their status as civilians. In one case, a soldier shot and killed two women, Majda and Rayya Hajjaj (aged 37 and 65 respectively) who were fleeing with their families while carrying a white flag in the town of Johr Ad-Dik. In August 2012, in a plea deal with prosecutors, a solider was sentenced to just 45 days in prison for their deaths. To date he's the only person to face serious charges stemming from Cast Lead.

Use of white phosphorus in populated areas: Rights groups, journalists, and the UN mission in Gaza also documented numerous instances of the use of white phosphorus, an incendiary substance that is illegal when used in populated areas. Israeli forces used white phosphorus in attacks on at least two hospitals (Al-Quds Hospital and Al-Wafa Hospital), as well as the central UN compound in Gaza City. Numerous civilian casualties were caused by white phosphorus in the small, densely populated Strip.

In addition to the Goldstone Report, human rights groups such as Amnesty InternationalPDFand Human Rights WatchPDFissued reports of their own documenting numerous allegations of war crimes being committed by Israeli forces.FURTHER REFERENCES

“What affected us a lot psychologically is the fact that we were all praying in the mosque when we were attacked. The mosque is a place where we go when we need relief or when we are sad. We could never imagine them targeting us while we are praying in the mosque.”

On 3 January 2009, at around 17:20, during prayer time, an Israeli drone fired a missile at the western entrance of al-Maqadma mosque in Jabaliya refugee camp. In the attack, 15 worshipers were killed and hundreds were injured. “In every prayer I remember what happened in the mosque that day. I remember where I saw dismembered arms, legs and other body parts lying on the floor. I can still see our relatives and friends scattered around the praying room”, says sheikh Motee’ as-Selawy (49) as he puts his head in his hands. He was standing on the sheikh’s podium delivering a speech to the worshipers as the missile hit the entrance. “I had a direct line of sight to the door of the mosque and I saw pieces of red shrapnel flying towards us through the doorway,” he recalls. The extended as-Selawy family, who live together in one big house opposite the mosque, lost five of its members, all of whom were praying in the mosque when it was attacked: Ahmad Isma’il (22), Mohammed Mousa Isma’il (12), Ibrahim Mousa Aissa (44), Hani Mohammed (8), and ‘Omar Abdel Hafez as-Selawy (27). Motee’s brother, Ismai’l Mousa as-Selawy (53), lost his oldest son, Ahmad Isma’il, in the attack. “I cry every day for my son. I have been suffering a lot over the past three years. He was everything for our family. I visit the grave of my son once or twice a week at least. I remember him in every moment, whether I am at home, in the mosque or somewhere else”, says Isma’il. “We miss our killed relatives on all occasions. Our family lives in the same building and we used to have a lot of fun together. Now we visit their graves”, adds Motee’. Six members of the as-Selawy family were injured in the attack and several of them continue to physically suffer from shrapnel that remains embedded in their bodies. “I still have shrapnel in my right wrist and it gives me problems until now. Doctors in Gaza said a surgery to remove the shrapnel might to do more harm than good. I feel constant tingling and my right hand is weak. I can’t carry anything with it,” says Motee’. Another relative, Mohammed Khalil es-Selawy (14), has shrapnel embedded in his head, which caused him to lose his hearing requiring him to wear hearing aids. Brothers Abdel Karim Mohammad as-Selawy (12) and Maher Mohammed as-Selawy (13) also have to learn how to live with shrapnel embedded in their bodies; Abdel Karim has fragments in his shoulder while Maher has pieces in his liver. Tamer Khalil (22) and Mousa Isma’il (23) as-Selawy were also injured by shrapnel in their backs but doctors were able to remove the metal parts from their bodies. “What affected us a lot psychologically is the fact that we were all praying in the mosque when we were attacked. The mosque is a place where we go when we need relief or when we are sad. We could never imagine them targeting us while we are praying in the mosque. That is a big crime,” says Motee’. The grandfather of the family, Mousa ‘Issa Mohammad es-Selawy (93), adds; “the mosque is the house of god. There are no soldiers or weapons in the house. Everyone comes to pray there and enjoy being there. How could they target it like that?” Motee’ recalls, “Goldstone came to visit us in our house and went to the mosque with us to investigate. I asked him; ‘where do you go when you feel sad and tired?’ He said, ‘I go to a place for prayer.’ I asked him, ‘what if you were bombed there?’ Goldstone said; ‘I cannot imagine it. Such a crime should be punished.’ Now Goldstone has apologized for his report and we have not seen any results on the ground.” Since the attack the as-Selawy is not only mourning the loss of its relatives. The family members are also struggling financially as three of their deceased relatives used to provide for a vital part of the family income. Ibrahim left behind 9 daughters, who still live at home. “Who will take care of them now?” asks Motee’. ‘Omar Abdel Hafez had 4 daughters and one son. Until the day of his death he earned the family income working as a cameraman with a local TV channel. Ismai’il’s son, Ahmad, was the father of two children, Mohammed (5) and Nisreen (3.5), and used to work as a tailor. “My concerns now are mainly focused on my grandchildren, Mohammed and Nisreen, and how I can bring them up. I want to give them a future but I am too sick too work. My health was badly affected by the attack and the loss of my son”, says Isma’il, who suffers from severe migraine and stomach problems. “I try to take care of them as much as possible, but I will not be here forever”. The as-Selawy’s try to deal with the financial difficulties by themselves as much as possible. “We have our dignity but we are forced sometimes to receive aid from people because we need to live” says Motee’. “Besides prosecution of the perpetrators, we need financial compensation to deal with our current situation.” The family has little expectations regarding the outcome of legal proceedings within the Israeli legal system. “The Israelis are prolonging the court proceedings and we don’t see any positive results. We may have hopes if our case is taken to an international court,” says Motee’. PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the as-Selawy family on 2 July 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

“The second of January is no different from any other day. Every day and every minute feels like the moment when I lost my sons. In everything there is a memory of them. I miss them all the time.”

On 2 January 2009 at around 14:30 an Israeli drone fired a missile at an open area in Qarara village, close to Khan Yunis. The missile struck and killed two brothers, Mohammed (12) and Abed Rabbo (9) al-Astal, and their cousin, Abdul Sattar Walid al-Astal (11) while they were playing and eating sugar canes in the land. “I was at home when I heard an explosion that was close to our area. An Israeli drone was flying in the sky above us at that moment.” Eyad al-Astal recalls. “Approximately ten minutes later, my brother Ibrahim (28) came to my house and told me that my two sons and their cousin were killed by an Israeli shell. I rapidly left the house and headed to the scene about 250 meters west of my house. There I saw a deep hole. Traces of blood and fragments of flesh were still there.” Three years have passed since Eyad lost his two sons but he still carries vivid memories with him. “Every day and every minute feels like the moment when I lost my sons. In everything there is a memory of them. I miss them all the time.” Eyad tries to describe what the life of his family is like without Mohammed and Abed Rabbo: “Our lives have been very difficult since they were killed. Every time I see another boy their age, I remember my sons. I still cannot look at their photos, it is too painful.” He says; “I always feel like crying but I try not to. My wife, Jawaher, cries everyday but tries to hide her tears from me. She does not want to add salt to my wounds. My wife always wants to go to our sons’ graves with her mother, but I don’t. I only went once and don’t want to go again. I can’t face the sight of their graves.” Besides Mohammed and Abed Rabbo, Eyad and his wife have five daughters and two sons. Mohammed and Abed Rabbo were the oldest children and their siblings were either very young or not born yet at the time of their death. The youngest child was born one and a half years after the war and will have no memories at all. “When the children ask us where their brothers are we tell them that they were killed, martyred, and are in heaven now”, says Eyad. The memory of his sons is at the tip of Eyad’s tongue. “My son Khaled looks exactly like his brother Mohammed and I often find myself saying ‘Mohammed!’ when I actually mean to call Khaled.” In order to keep going, Eyad tries to stay busy all the time, finding some distraction by meeting people and working as a mason. Since the death of his sons Eyad is tormented by worries and fears for the safety of his other children. Before the death of Mohammed and Abed Rabbo he allowed his children to go anywhere at anytime. Even when there were explosions and shooting was heard in the area. After the incident he became very afraid for his children and he wants to keep them inside. “I am afraid that anything would happen to them, especially for my son Khaled, who is now in the first grade. From the moment he leaves the house I worry that something could happen to him. Every day he walks to school, which is 1 kilometer away from our home. I know education is important, otherwise I would forbid him to go, out of my fear.” The children themselves are aware that their brothers were killed by a drone: the same type of drone they often hear and see flying above themselves. Eyad explains that “when they hear a drone they are too afraid to go outside. ‘The drone will bomb me if I go out’, is what they say.” The area where Mohammed and Abed Rabbo were killed was an open area approximately three kilometres away from the border with Israel. “The children were used to playing in that area. Our piece of land is close to it. It is an agricultural residential area, far from any hostilities,” Eyad explains. Eyad is sceptical about the future, given the continuing impunity. “The Israelis disregard our rights. They kill our children and bulldoze our lands and no one will hold them accountable,” he says. “I expect the Israeli court to reject our complaint. I can even imagine them killing me together with my other children. However, I want to hope that the complaint would have some result.” PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on behalf of the al-Astal family on 23 June 2009. To-date, no response has been received.

Jihad, Mu'tassam, and Zeid Nasla with a picture of M'uz Nasla, killed during the attack

“I wish that if our fate is to die, that we die together, I wouldn’t want anybody left to have to bear this sort of pain”

On 1 January 2009 at around 15:00, Israeli military planes targeted a water tower across from the home of the Nasla family in North Beit Lahiya. The family were making lunch when the first bomb hit. As the family were trying to escape the smoke filled house, a second and third bomb struck the area, killing Ayoun Nasla, 6, and M’uz Nasla, 2.

For Ayoun and M’uz’s father, Jihad Nasla, the memory of what happened that day is especially distressing. “I found M’uz with his heart outside his chest and my daughter Ayoun with part of her skull missing and her brains spilt out," says Jihad. “It is the night time, when I used to tell M'uz the stories of Abraham to get him to sleep, and when I go to visit their graves, when I most vividly recall the incident”. “I can no longer go into clothes shops to buy clothes for my children, I used to buy for three boys and two girl’s; I can’t bear to buy only for three”, added Fatima, 42.

The children’s mother, Fatima, has also given a lot of thought and attention to that fateful day. It is clear that she ruminates on the moments, days and years before the attack took place. “M'uz used to go to the balcony of the house every morning and say “good morning” to Majdal and Herbia, where our family is originally from, and every night he would say “good night.” The day he was killed he had said good morning but he never got to say good night,” says Fatima. “M'uz used to have a favourite resistance song he sang all the time, it reminds me so much of him anytime it is played, especially because it is played a lot on the anniversary of his death, which also happens to be the anniversary of one of the resistance groups. The title of the song is now written on his grave.”

The family dynamic has been dramatically changed since the attack, a result of the stress they all share; the stress of one family member increases the anxiety of the others. “My wife now cries every day, I have to try and calm her down every time and this has become a source of conflict between us,” says Jihad, to which Fatima adds: “I cry so often I feel my vision is now starting to be affected.” The children’s anxiety also feeds into the parent’s anxiety. “If Zeid wakes up in the middle of the night, when it’s dark, he starts to scream. I then wake up terrified something is happening” says Jihad.

The anxiety of the children is plain both from their parents discussion of the changes they have gone through since the death of their siblings, and their reaction to the unhappy topic of the discussion. “Mu’tassam was very calm until the incident. But he has started to become violent. His grades have also been lightly affected” says Jihad.

Talk of the future for the couple is largely filled with fear and doubt. “In the future I hope to live in peace with the Israelis, but I doubt this will happen given what the Israelis do to us” says Fatima. “I wish that if our fate is to die that we die together, I wouldn’t want anybody left to have to bear this sort of pain”. Jihad expresses similar feelings, “I am terrified that another attack will take more of us, when planes are flying overhead I tell my children to play so that we are distracted," he says. “My hope is that the pain we carry will one day come to an end, but I don’t know how this is going to happen.”

PCHR submitted a criminal complaint to the Israeli authorities on 9 September 2009. To date, no response has been received.